


Warmth

by Danosaur



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danosaur/pseuds/Danosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Woah, Baz, you’re warm,” Simon smirks, clearly proud of himself, as his fingertips dance over my stomach lightly.<br/>“Of course I am,” I scoff, then bring a hand up to one of his flushed cheeks. He leans into my palm, and closes his eyes slowly, like a damn kitten. “You are too.”<br/>“Yeah, but you’re a vampire,” he whispers, opening his eyes just so he can smirk again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

Simon’s tongue is incontrovertibly warm. All of Simon is warm, really, and always has been. But his mouth is still so new to me, and all I can think about when I’m kissing him is the hole that’s no doubt burning through my stomach. He keeps doing things like pulling back slightly before crashing his lips into mine again, over and over, or acting like he’s going to kiss me but just letting his lips hover over mine instead. It’s torture (in a good way, if you can believe that), because I have to lift my head up if I want to kiss him. 

I can feel him playing with the hem of my shirt, and it’s just kindling the fire inside me. He pushes my shirt up, finally, and I gasp a little. He bites my lip when I do, making me gasp again. I feel his fingers splayed out over my belly button. His hand is cold, but not unpleasantly so. 

“Woah, Baz, you’re warm,” Simon smirks, clearly proud of himself, as his fingertips dance over my stomach lightly.

“Of course I am,” I scoff, then bring a hand up to one of his flushed cheeks. He leans into my palm, and closes his eyes slowly, like a damn kitten. “You are too.”

“Yeah, but you’re a _vampire_ ,” he whispers, opening his eyes just so he can smirk again.

I shake my head slightly, “doesn’t matter. Your kisses could make ice melt, Snow,” I cringe at myself, and wait for the teasing, but Simon decides to ignore both the irony and cheesiness of my statement. 

“I’d rather be snogging you than a block of ice,” he giggles softly, before shifting his weight on my lap and placing both hands behind my back, pulling me up so we’re both sitting. I allow him, and place my hands on either side of his hips, which are on either side of mine. 

“Wow, thanks,” I mumble, and he brings his hands up from my back to my neck.

“You know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes, then smiles and blinks languidly before locking eyes with me. I don’t say anything for a few moments, and he must get impatient, because he presses his forehead against mine. He closes his eyes. I’m about to ask if he wants to stop and go to sleep, when he speaks again, “I meant that I like making you melt.” 

And he does. His kisses and his touch always make my skin burn, but his words never fail to make my heart melt. I decide to tell him now. “My heart’s a puddle, Snow.” 

He jerks his head back from its resting position on my forehead, and tilts it sideways, “because of me?”

I sigh, feeling both content and exasperated, as I always do when I’m with Simon, “yes, because of you, you git, who else?” I bury my nose in the crook of his neck and kiss his mole softly. 

He strokes my hair, and it makes me sleepy. I close my eyes. We sit like that for a while, and he’s so quiet that I almost miss him mumble my name, “Baz?”

“Hm?”

“I like this.” 

I lift my head from his shoulder and look up at him, “what is _this_ , exactly?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. This,” he cups both of my cheeks and slowly brings his lips to mine for the zillionth time that night. “ _This_ ,” he says again, before kissing me. It’s slow and soft, and short, but still amazing (It’s amazing every time; I don’t think it’ll ever stop being amazing). It’s obviously supposed to be different than the other kisses, though. “And this,” he gesticulates lazily to both of us, and I nod. 

“...do you like this better than fighting?” I ask tentatively, because I still feel like there’s a chance he’s going to push himself off me and realize what the hell he’s doing. 

“Definitely.”

I can’t hide my ridiculous smile, and I know it’s ridiculous because the corners of my mouth are hurting from it. Crowley, when did I start allowing myself to be so vulnerable around Snow? 

He yawns, reminding me of a kitten again. 

“Tired?” I ask, and he nods.

“Sorry.”

“For being tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I shake my head, then swat at his side. “Get up.”

He obeys, standing and stretching, then looks around dumbly. 

“Well? Couch is yours.” He blushes and looks down, hesitates, then walks over to the couch. I start going to my bed, but stop when he springs up, grabs my hand, and drags me  
back to the couch. He lays down and pulls me into him, and I am, of course, in no position to object. We fall asleep like that, pressed together on the couch.

Snow kissed me last night until my mouth was sore. He kissed me so much, I was worried I’d Turn him with all my saliva. He held himself up on all fours above me and made me reach up for his mouth—and I did. I would again. I’d cross every line for him.

I’m in love with him.

And he likes this better than fighting.

**Author's Note:**

> a/n I really like writing dialogue, and snowbaz banter is fun. I wrote this at 5am so excuse grammar mistakes, and I lent my copy of Carry On to my boyfriend, so I couldn't fact check. Also, I was supposed to be working on a story for creative writing, but I did this instead kms


End file.
